


Babycakes

by thedaughterofkings



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Movie Night, Oblivious Isaac, Oblivious Stiles, Pack Nights, falling asleep on top of each other, in the fluffiest way possible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 08:43:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9877331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedaughterofkings/pseuds/thedaughterofkings
Summary: Wednesday is pack night.But when the rest of the pack decides to ditch Isaac and Stiles one Wednesday, it might just become date night instead.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xinio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xinio/gifts).



> Written for [my kiss meme](http://thedaughterofkings.tumblr.com/tagged/and%20let%20me%20kiss%20you) and first published [here](http://thedaughterofkings.tumblr.com/post/123656676936/babycakes). Mal asked for "when they lean forward a fraction as if to kiss the other person, then realize they shouldn’t and pull back to stop themselves."
> 
> Beta-read by the amazing [Larissa](http://ohfuckthisshit.tumblr.com/)! Thank you!

Wednesday was pack night.

 

Well, Wednesday was supposed to be pack night, and usually a mixture of bribes, threats, and gentle bodily coercion worked.

 

But this week, Scott and Kira were on a date, and Allison and Lydia were doing a girls’ night - Stiles gave it three weeks until that officially became date night, too. 

 

Isaac gave it two.

 

Derek, Boyd, and Erica were doing some wolfy stuff that apparently involved bondage of some sort - Isaac had just backed away slowly when Erica had gotten that dangerous glint in her eyes, and had firmly declined any offers to join them.

 

So it’s just him and Stiles tonight. 

 

Isaac had cautiously tried to offer to just skip the night altogether but Stiles had just scoffed.

 

“Oh, no way, dude. Wednesday is pack night and you don’t have a date, so you have no excuse! Just came around to mine at seven.”

 

So Wednesday night, Isaac finds himself in front of Stiles’ house at a quarter to seven, a large take-away box full of curly fries in his hands. When Stiles opens the door, his hair is a mess and he’s wearing an apron that says: “Kiss the cook”. Isaac awkwardly holds out his curly fries and says: “I picked them up on the way, I hope that’s okay?”

 

Stiles’ eyes light up and he makes a grab for the container, his fingers sliding along Isaac’s for a moment. 

 

“Dude, you’re the best. These will go perfectly with the VEGGIE BURGERS THAT YOU’LL STILL BE EATING EVEN IF YOU ‘ACCIDENTALLY’ BURNED THEM, DAD, SO DON’T EVEN TRY!” he shouts over his shoulder back into the house.

 

Isaac can hear the sheriff grumble: “Human, my ass. Psychic’s more like it.”

 

When Stiles turns back around to Isaac, there’s a light blush staining his cheeks a faint pink.

 

“Sorry ‘bout that, my dad has the night shift, he’ll be gone in a couple minutes and he keeps trying to get out of taking a  DELICIOUS, BETTER THAN MEAT, VEGGIE BURGER WITH HIM.”

  
The last bit is shouted again and Isaac takes Stiles by the shoulder and gently steers him inside. Mrs Kanovsky’s curtains are moving already.

 

In the kitchen, the sheriff is building a towering burger with lots of bacon and cheese.

 

“Daaad,” Stiles starts saying warningly, but the sheriff quickly interrupts him.

 

“It’s turkey bacon and light cheese; it’s healthy! And it’s not as though there’s anything else in the house.”

 

Stiles nods.

  
“And don’t you change that, mister!”

 

The sheriff exaggeratedly rolls his eyes, but he ruffles Stiles’ hair playfully and presses a quick kiss to his forehead as he walks out of the kitchen.

 

“I’ve got to go, boys. Hi and bye, Isaac!”

 

There’s the sound of keys jingling and then the front door closing and a few moments later, the cruiser starts.

 

Stiles is getting out a glass bowl and is pouring the curly fries into it, and Isaac finally walks into the kitchen proper. He grins and nudges Stiles playfully with his shoulder: “Fancy, Stilinski! Are you gonna wine and dine me?”

 

Stiles’ blush flares up again but he’s never one to let a joke die if he can keep it going a little longer. So Isaac isn’t surprised when Stiles throws him a wink and says: “Prepare to be thoroughly wooed, Lahey!”

 

His heartbeat doesn’t skip a beat.

 

When he suddenly hurries from the kitchen, a smirk growing on his face, Isaac follows him into the dining room. Stiles rummages through a cupboard for a few moments before he makes a triumphant noise and emerges with a sad little, half-burned tea light. 

 

He places it in the middle of the dining table and proudly proclaims: “There! Now we’ll have a candle light dinner!”

 

Isaac grins and dramatically clutches at his heart, simpering: “Oh, how romantic!”

 

Stiles shoves him on his way back to the kitchen, but he’s grinning, too. 

 

They end up standing at the counter next to each other, building their burgers in companionable silence. They keep playfully jostling each other whenever one has to reach across the other to get at another burger ingredient. 

 

Once a food fight almost breaks out when Isaac threatens to throw a piece of bacon at Stiles’ head. But Stiles shoots forward and plucks the bacon right out of Isaac’s hand. His lips barely touch Isaac’s fingers, and Isaac can feel his cheeks getting hot, a blush spreading across them that matches the one that’s now permanently staining Stiles’ cheeks. 

 

When their burgers are built, Isaac carries their plates to the dining room while Stiles takes the curly fries. They settle down opposite each other, the still unlit tealight and a glass bowl full of curly fries, that have probably gotten cold by now, between them.

 

Isaac grins and says: “This looks absolutely lovely, thank you, dear! So how was your day, sweetheart?”

 

Stiles grins back at him and flutters his lashes: “Better now that you’re here, babycakes.”

 

His heartbeat doesn’t skip a beat this time either. 

 

They do actually end up talking about their days during the rest of the meal, throwing in endearments every couple of sentences that ring just a little bit too true.

 

Stiles complains about Harris giving him detention for “breathing too loud, Stilinski!”

 

Isaac confesses that he’s no longer taking showers in the morning because Derek will invariably come in to take a piss.

 

“He claims that naturally born wolves are just not as concerned with nudity and that I’ll ‘throw off the constraints society has put on me eventually’ but I think he just likes to be a dick.”

  
Stiles snorts and says: “He probably needs the time to manscape his chest.”

 

They do the clean-up in companionable silence. There’s not a lot to do but they stay pressed together the entire time, shoulders touching as Stiles rinses the few dishes and Isaac dries them.

 

When they’ve come upstairs, they both change into something more comfortable. 

 

The sweats and shirt are Isaac’s but they smell like both him and Stiles from being in Stiles’ wardrobe. There’s a faint hint from the rest of the pack, too, from Allison’s sweatshirt, Lydia’s yoga pants, whatever the rest of the pack has left in Stiles’ wardrobe. 

 

Isaac knows for a fact that one of Erica’s thongs is in between Stiles’ boxers because she tries to make Stiles put it on every now and then.

 

In light of the evening so far, it only makes sense to settle on Stiles’ bed with one arm extended in invitation. Stiles blushes bright red when he turns around with his laptop in his hands but he does snuggle into Isaac’s side, putting his head on his shoulder with a played-up happy sigh. 

 

Stiles settles the laptop on their thighs, which are pressed close together, and pulls up Netflix.

 

“You haven’t seen ‘Napoleon Dynamite’ yet, right? It’s fun, I promise!”

 

But for all that Stiles is the one that wants to watch the movie, it doesn’t take him long to sink more into Isaac, head a heavy weight on his shoulder. When Isaac sneaks a look down at him, he sees Stiles’ eyes slowly slipping shut, and quickly opening again, only to close a few moments later.

 

He wraps his arm more firmly around Stiles, hand curling over his shoulder instead of just awkwardly hanging down, and keeps a hold of the laptop that’s threatening to slide off their laps with his other hand.

 

Stiles is almost all the way to sleep now, lips smacking together now and then, and Isaac turns down the volume to let him sleep.

 

But Stiles obviously isn’t quite as asleep yet as Isaac thought because he stirs and mumbles:

 

“No, you’ve got to keep watching, you’ve got to see the dance scene. Promise you’ll watch the dance scene, it’s my favourite!”

 

Isaac smiles down at him fondly and quietly promises: “I’ll watch it very carefully, I swear.”

 

“Good.” Stiles says firmly, as if Isaac had promised something far more important, like marrying Stiles for example, and, okay, no, Isaac resolutely focuses back on the movie before his brain takes that thought any further.

  
Stiles stays still for a couple more moments and then he turns onto his side, almost dislodging the laptop, snuggling more firmly into Isaac and starts snoring softly. 

 

Isaac rolls his eyes and turns the volume back up slightly. 

 

He holds Stiles close through the entire movie, even though his arm is starting to cramp and his leg is falling asleep where Stiles has rolled on top of it. But Stiles’ breath is moist and warm on his neck, his scent comforting and familiar, and Isaac might have taken that fake date night thing they sort of accidentally had going a bit too far because he keeps imagining that this is how all of his evenings looked like from now on. 

 

And he likes that. He wants that.

 

He’s tempted to wake Stiles for the dance scene, but in the end just settles for turning up the volume a little bit more, in an “if he wakes up, it’s meant to be; if he doesn’t, it isn’t” way.

 

Stiles doesn’t wake up, neither during the actual dance sequence, nor during the applause and cheers that loudly ring through the laptop’s speakers before Isaac hurries to turn the volume back down.

 

Only when the end credits roll, does he wake up, rubbing his cheek slowly into Isaac’s shoulder, his hands tightening where he’d gripped Isaac’s shirt and then relaxing again. He draws up his legs even further, pressing into Isaac and nudging against the laptop before he stretches them out once more. 

 

Isaac quickly rescues the laptop and puts it safely to the side where Stiles won’t easily knock into it. When he turns back to Stiles, he has slipped further down the bed, head lying on the pillow, eyes half slid shut. His cheeks are pink, darker where Isaac’s shirt and shoulder left marks on them, his hair is a mess. 

 

He’s softly smiling up at Isaac and Isaac can’t help leaning down towards him, eyes skipping back and forth between Stiles’ eyes and his lips, which have parted slightly. Stiles calmly looks back at him, a twinkle in his eye and a smile still on his lips, and Isaac pulls back because he suddenly remembers that he shouldn’t, can’t do this, that for all that it felt real, felt like a date, like they both meant it, it was a joke, some fun because everyone else ditched them for date night.

 

Save that it isn’t fun anymore, never was a joke for Isaac.

 

Stiles’ eyes are wide open now, staring into Isaac’s eyes as though he’s trying to see right into his soul, read him like an open book. Isaac doesn’t know what he’s seeing but whatever it is, it makes Stiles sit up slowly, moving into Isaac’s space until they are nose to nose.

 

Then he leans in, moving even slower, probably to give Isaac time to pull back, and presses his lips against Isaac’s. It’s an innocent kiss, close-mouthed and dry, slow and careful, over in the blink of an eye. 

 

Stiles draws back a little bit, and he really does seem to be reading Isaac’s mind, because he whispers, voice quiet and intimate in the small space between them: 

 

“I wanted it to be real, too.”

 

Before Isaac can really react, a big grin spreads across Stiles’ face, cheeky and slightly teasing, and he makes a grab for Isaac’s hand, clasping it in both of his.

 

“Do you want to be my boyfriend, babycakes?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I'd love to hear what you thought, so please leave a comment below or come talk to me on [tumblr](http://thedaughterofkings.tumblr.com/)!


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